I read the following paragraphs in an article by Christianity Today. The full article can be read here.
"Which sums up much of ex-gay ministry today. No hype. Limited faith in techniques. No gay bashing. No detectable triumphalism, religious or political. Just serious discipleship. This may be the only group in America that realizes all the way to the bottom that when you decide to follow Jesus, you don't always get to do what you want to do.
The ex-gay movement runs against the cultural tide. Given adverse public opinion, the ambivalent support of conservative churches, and the common assertion that ex-gays condemn themselves to a life of frustration, you would think the movement would shrivel. Yet Exodus affiliates have doubled in number over the last 18 years. Many of its leaders have been in the public eye for 20 to 30 years. They show every sign of stability."
What a lesson to all of Christians! What would the Church be if we began to realize the sacrifice involved in discipleship? What if we fearlessly confronted cultural tides? What if our leaders would stand strong?
Lord, grant that we may follow the example of these, our brothers and sisters.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Our Deeply Sane Moments
The other day I decided that I needed to start smoking. I was driving, window open to the warm summer air, my hand on the window skimming through the breeze, and some great song on the radio. As I pulled up to a stop light, the guy next to me had just reached his hand out the window to flick ash off the end of his cigarette. It was so irrepressibly cool, so relaxing, I decided to buy my first pack at the very next gas station.
Luckily, I walked out of the Sinclair with only a pop-tart and a Mountain Dew (breakfast of champions!). I reasoned that I didn’t have time to smoke just then, and showing up to seminary class (New Testament) reeking of smoke wouldn’t go over real well. I was deeply tired and incredibly stressed, and perhaps a bit insane.
What in the world was going on in my head? Did I really think that a long draw on a cigarette was going to relieve my stress? Or make me cooler? A few weeks back I was preaching from Hebrews 10 and was emphasizing the “day after day, again and again” phrase that describes other attempts to reach God apart from Christ. I shared a definition of insanity that I thought particularly helpful and insightful. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, each time expecting a different result.
By this definition, I would say that many of us have strongly insane tendencies. I mean, if it’s not drugs or alcohol, it’s the power-games and the rat-race for financial gain. Day after day, again and again, trying to acquire for ourselves something we think will give us those things we truly seek—love, peace, joy. These things are only found in God, revealed and made known to us only through His Son. Really when you think of it, all sins are this type of insanity. We say to God, “I will meet these deep needs within me by a different means than what you’ve provided—I can provide for myself.” So we sin again and again, thinking that this time it might fulfill, this time we might find that which we are after.
With all these moments of insanity, I sometimes wonder if I can trust myself to make any sound decisions at all. Here again, I’m comforted by something I heard. The difference between truly insane people and sane people is that the insane never question their sanity. But still, how do you know when you are making a sound decision? Especially when there seems to be major change or risk involved? Couched in Christian language, one might ask, how does one know God’s will?
Two months ago, I witnessed one of the most stirring and deeply sane moments I have ever seen. A friend of mine reached rock bottom. As three of us sat on the floor in a living room with long periods of silence punctuated by the occasional comment, he kept expressing how much he wanted to leave behind this thing that was destroying his life. He felt destitute, broken down, beat up, almost destroyed, but he had a vision of freedom and he was building resolve to find it. It was if his mind, heart, emotions, and spirit had all come into alignment—telling him the same thing: “Leave this behind.” The road ahead was marked with sacrifice, difficulties, and risk, but he felt compelled to begin. It was sober and sobering; it was deeply sane.
Our deeply sane moments may come only once in a great while. They are moments of great vision grounded with sober reality. They are those rare moments when all parts of seem to align—mind, heart, emotions, and spirit. We somehow seem to know—as deeply as we’ve known anything—this is the road we must take. The road, though fraught with danger and hardship, will lead us to love, peace and joy.
When we leave this moment, we must guard the vision against all our insanities. We must never settle for old coping mechanisms, which we practice again and again, hoping for different results. We are now on a different road. It is terrifying, terribly hard, and deeply sane.
Luckily, I walked out of the Sinclair with only a pop-tart and a Mountain Dew (breakfast of champions!). I reasoned that I didn’t have time to smoke just then, and showing up to seminary class (New Testament) reeking of smoke wouldn’t go over real well. I was deeply tired and incredibly stressed, and perhaps a bit insane.
What in the world was going on in my head? Did I really think that a long draw on a cigarette was going to relieve my stress? Or make me cooler? A few weeks back I was preaching from Hebrews 10 and was emphasizing the “day after day, again and again” phrase that describes other attempts to reach God apart from Christ. I shared a definition of insanity that I thought particularly helpful and insightful. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, each time expecting a different result.
By this definition, I would say that many of us have strongly insane tendencies. I mean, if it’s not drugs or alcohol, it’s the power-games and the rat-race for financial gain. Day after day, again and again, trying to acquire for ourselves something we think will give us those things we truly seek—love, peace, joy. These things are only found in God, revealed and made known to us only through His Son. Really when you think of it, all sins are this type of insanity. We say to God, “I will meet these deep needs within me by a different means than what you’ve provided—I can provide for myself.” So we sin again and again, thinking that this time it might fulfill, this time we might find that which we are after.
With all these moments of insanity, I sometimes wonder if I can trust myself to make any sound decisions at all. Here again, I’m comforted by something I heard. The difference between truly insane people and sane people is that the insane never question their sanity. But still, how do you know when you are making a sound decision? Especially when there seems to be major change or risk involved? Couched in Christian language, one might ask, how does one know God’s will?
Two months ago, I witnessed one of the most stirring and deeply sane moments I have ever seen. A friend of mine reached rock bottom. As three of us sat on the floor in a living room with long periods of silence punctuated by the occasional comment, he kept expressing how much he wanted to leave behind this thing that was destroying his life. He felt destitute, broken down, beat up, almost destroyed, but he had a vision of freedom and he was building resolve to find it. It was if his mind, heart, emotions, and spirit had all come into alignment—telling him the same thing: “Leave this behind.” The road ahead was marked with sacrifice, difficulties, and risk, but he felt compelled to begin. It was sober and sobering; it was deeply sane.
Our deeply sane moments may come only once in a great while. They are moments of great vision grounded with sober reality. They are those rare moments when all parts of seem to align—mind, heart, emotions, and spirit. We somehow seem to know—as deeply as we’ve known anything—this is the road we must take. The road, though fraught with danger and hardship, will lead us to love, peace and joy.
When we leave this moment, we must guard the vision against all our insanities. We must never settle for old coping mechanisms, which we practice again and again, hoping for different results. We are now on a different road. It is terrifying, terribly hard, and deeply sane.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Lessons from the 'rents
My mother taught me to clean up after myself, to love with a no-nonsense, fierce love, and to leave things better than I found them.
My dad taught me to work hard, think deeply, and to enter so deeply into other people's lives that your kids feel as if you will never leave the church on Sunday afternoon.
In some senses, the clock is ticking loudly on my time here in Utah. My prayer is that I'm faithful to the lessons I learned from my parents.
I hope that when I leave Utah my affairs here will be wrapped up neatly, my hard work and deep thinking will have lasting effects, and my love and relationships will run so deep it will hurt like hell to leave. I hope in some way to leave this place better than I found it.
My dad taught me to work hard, think deeply, and to enter so deeply into other people's lives that your kids feel as if you will never leave the church on Sunday afternoon.
In some senses, the clock is ticking loudly on my time here in Utah. My prayer is that I'm faithful to the lessons I learned from my parents.
I hope that when I leave Utah my affairs here will be wrapped up neatly, my hard work and deep thinking will have lasting effects, and my love and relationships will run so deep it will hurt like hell to leave. I hope in some way to leave this place better than I found it.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
